


I Can Love You Like a Sailor (I Can Make You Dance All Night)

by ativanpire



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, M/M, Pseudo-Incest, Sharing a Bed, premarital handholding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:00:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22223719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ativanpire/pseuds/ativanpire
Summary: Ben has just moved out of the mansion and in with Diego (temporarily, of course). He, Diego,and Vanya go out dancing but drunk Ben needs a little help. (The slight jealousy and caretaking no one asked for).
Relationships: Ben Hargreeves/Diego Hargreeves
Comments: 18
Kudos: 42





	1. Chapter 1

And maybe Ben is one of his more sheltered siblings since being a kinder egg full of murderous tentacles and public spaces full of unexpected stimuli don't exactly mix. He'd been more likely to watch old movies with mom on the rare hours off she was allowed to "study" human behavior than he was to sneak out with him or Klaus. Especially as they got older and sneaking out became less innocent than a late-night donut run. Even Five got out doing God-knows-what. But Ben had been anxious about leaving the house. Would probably still be there if it weren't for Diego offering him a place to crash and Vanya helping him land a tutoring gig. Just him and Reginald and Mom and Luther going through the motions, pretending the Umbrella Academy could still function with just two members. Diego just couldn't leave him in that house. 

Still, the past few years must have been lonely for him, Diego muses. Ben had always been attention-starved and it showed even now in the way his entire face opened, sunflower-bright, into a hopeful smile under the slightest bit of attention or approval. And there's plenty of both tonight; guys and girls going up to Ben with drinks or hungry smiles. One even had the audacity to sling his arm around Ben's shoulders until Diego loomed over him, asking Ben who his new friend was. Not out of jealousy. Ben's just his baby brother. His babiest brother. His baby brother who should not be moving his hips like that because _ Jesus Christ, they didn't show that kind of dancing in "High Society." Where had he learned to move like that?  _

Diego finds himself gripped with the completely irrational desire to cover Ben up somehow even though he's fully clothed. But it's fine. They're adults. They're both adults and he should be happy that his brother is enjoying himself. He should not be reaching for his knives as the same guy from before starts grinding against Ben. He shouldn't because Ben is smiling with glowing pink cheeks and mussed hair, looking more relaxed and free than Diego has ever seen him. Than Diego has ever been able to make him look. Diego is still mulling that over (not brooding) when Ben crashes into his side, slight body connecting with Diego's more solid one and leaning against him like otherwise he'll slide to the floor. Shit, Ben isn't used to drinking. Diego places a steadying arm around his waist and Ben puts his mouth to Diego's ear, close enough that Diego can feel the heat radiating off of his face, and then starts talking way too loudly. 

"Are you having fun? I'm having fun. Everyone is so nice! That guy offered me a ride home because he said I was too drunk to drive but I told him my big brother was my DD! Isn't that nice of him, Diego? Diego?" 

Ben, ever the little brother, pokes Diego in the side. 

Diego grunts in response and looks at his watch. It's late and he really should be getting Ben home. And where the hell is Vanya? 

Ben slaps his shoulder and points and Diego looks up in time to see some girl shove her tongue down Vanya's throat. So it looks like she won't need a ride home. Good for her. The girl is cute and Vanya seems to be enjoying herself. Diego's happy for her. Not jealous at all. And besides, someone has to keep Ben out of trouble, and Klaus had bailed. 

* * *

It's just the two of them in the car, in companionable silence. On the chatterbox scale from Diego to Klaus, Ben leans closer to Diego. In the car, he also leans closer to Diego, resting his head on Diego's shoulder. It's no problem; Diego can drive with one arm. And besides, Ben is warm and a little sweaty and he smells like syrupy drinks and Diego's shampoo and the ozone scent that has always just been 'Ben' to Diego. His face looks older in the shadows from the passing streetlights but also so, so soft. He's always been soft, no matter what Dad made him do. Except Dad saw that softness as weakness, as malleability. Diego sees it as something precious; a pearl built layer by layer over roughness and pain. Beautiful. So beautiful and Diego desperately wants to kiss him except he's pretty sure Ben isn't ready for that and also going to throw up so he hurriedly rolls down the window. 

* * *

Diego buys a Gatorade from the gym vending machine upstairs and coaxes Ben to take little sips while trying to avoid staring at his lips. Ben doesn't seem distressed by his predicament, just suddenly exhausted, limp and clinging to Diego's shirt. He's not a kid who gets queasy and cries after missions anymore. Sobbing and retching in his stupid bloodsoaked uniform, not even old enough to be out of short pants. But old enough for gore and blood. There had always been so much blood. So much that Diego could always smell it from a distance-- because Ben never could bear for anyone to touch him until the next day when he'd emerge with angry, raw skin and raised red scratches from where he’d scrubbed too hard. How young was he when he was spending clammy nights alone on the bathroom floor? Still at an age where Mom would rub Diego's back when he threw up? Ben pushes the bottle away clumsily and Diego lets him. He's tired and he's not sleeping on the floor tonight because this is now and not then. Now, Diego lifts him into bed easily and slides in next to him. The whole one bed thing was supposed to be a temporary arrangement but now they don't talk about it. It fits them both anyway even if it's a little snug. The closeness is grounding. It dispels the haze of memories of blood and failure and cold tile floors. And if Diego pulls the blanket around them protectively to keep those memories out, Ben doesn’t have to know. He runs cold anyway, at least when he’s sober. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> kiss time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapters 2 and 3 are a bit shorter because I decided to split them at the last minute. On the bright side, that means Chapter 3 is coming soon. Also AO3 won't let me indent anymore so that's fun.

When Diego wakes up hours later it’s still dark outside and he’s still wrapped around Ben. The first thing he notices is that Ben is awake and staring at him with eyes that almost glow in the dark, reflecting the red light from Diego’s ancient alarm clock in a way that isn’t entirely human. The second thing he notices is that they're close. They're too close, burning up and fogging up the windows of Diego's basement room that somehow became  _ their  _ basement room. He should move, he should  _ say something.  _ What he should not do is freeze when Ben nuzzles closer, mouthing gently at Diego’s stubble in a decidedly unbrotherly way. It’s disorienting and feverish enough that it could pass for one of Diego’s jealous fantasies. His brain wakes up just enough to register Ben forming words against his jaw.

“What do I have to do to make you jealous enough to just take?” His voice is lower than Diego has ever heard it but still has that familiar frustrated edge to it. And that’s what finally breaks Diego. 

Diego answers by turning his face to kiss Ben properly, situating him in his arms without the blanket binding them together too close to move, and Ben immediately takes the opportunity to sneak a hand under Diego’s shirt to brace himself against his chest. Someone sighs into the kiss and Diego suspects it might be him given how he feels like all the air has left his lungs and entered Ben’s. Ben who, despite initiating, is kissing back with a slow gentleness like they have all the time in the world. His only tell is the way his hands keep roaming Diego’s chest, clenching and unclenching like he wishes he could dig his fingers in and cling. Maybe it's the void-portal in his gut, maybe it's being number six out of seven, but whatever it is, Ben has always been achingly empty. Needy in the worst way. He wants to take with both hands and never let go. Diego understands the feeling; he already can't get enough of Ben's mouth all pliant and hungry at the same time. Ben kisses the way he talks: waiting for the right moment and then delivering a measured take without extraneous words or movements. It feels like a conversation; possibly the deepest conversation Diego has ever had and he never wants it to end. And what could be greedier than that? To have lived every second of your life with another person and still want lifetimes more. He's no stranger to self denial but in this moment he can't stop. Can't stop all the tenderlongingyearning feelings from bubbling to the surface and spilling silently from his lips. Can't stop the way his arms flex instinctively trying to pull Ben impossibly closer. Every space between them is his new enemy. Just as lightning strikes and creates glass, Diego feels every electric touch create a fragile new reality for them both. It’s too much and all-consuming and sharp the way Diego likes it. The way he needs it. He nips Ben’s lip just hard enough for him to feel it but not hard enough to break skin. They’ve tasted enough copper in their lifetime. Ben drags his nails down Diego’s chest in retaliation, narrowly avoiding his nipple ring. Diego shivers and swears he feels the pressure in the room drop, feels the slide of phantom tentacles running over his body like a cold breeze. Touching.  _ Claiming.  _ The hair on his arms is sticking up; a warning to pull away. But Diego surges forward and kisses back harder, tongue delving into Ben’s mouth. Ben opens for him, accepting and inviting, and the escalating tension in the room, the feeling of tightness under their skin, breaks and crashes over them like a warm wave. Diego no longer feels hot and cold at the same time. He pulls back to look at Ben who blinks up at him owlishly. He looks wrecked and innocent at the same time, staring up at Diego like he’s waiting for his next cue. It’s adorable. Diego could kiss him again for it but Ben’s eyelids are starting to droop. Right. It’s so late it’s early. Diego easily shifts them both so Ben can pillow his head on Diego’s chest where he plants one last sleepy kiss before passing out. It’s that last chaste kiss that Diego thinks of as he drifts off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Diego mentions feeling a drop in atmospheric pressure but please know that drops in barometric pressure are actually painful and not sexy. I have decided to romanticize them for the purposes of this fic.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben: McDonald's! McDonald's!  
> Diego: One black coffee, please

Things are awkward the next morning but not as awkward as they could be because Ben is busy nursing a hangover and Diego is busy nursing him. 

"I'm never going to drink again. Or eat. Or even look at food." Ben whines. Diego rolls his eyes and continues looking through the fridge. Shit. It's just eggs and a few sad looking greens. 

"I'm making eggs."

"You don't have a stove. Cracking an egg into your mouth over the sink isn't 'making eggs' so much as trying to get salmonella." Ben chokes back bile at the mention of raw eggs before laying back down miserably. 

"The man with monsters in his gut is really gonna lecture me on salmonella?" 

"Rude." 

Diego throws a pair of pants at him. 

"If you can find it in your heart to forgive me, we can get McDonald's."

Ben cracks open one eye. "Can I get hash browns?" 

* * *

Ben gets two hash browns and an orange juice before stealing a sip of Diego's coffee.Diego chuckles at the bitter face he makes when he realizes the coffee is black. They eat in silence in Diego's car and it's only when Ben starts looking less green that Diego realizes he doesn't know what to do next. Rationally, he knows he needs to drive them both home but after that… He can care for Ben on autopilot. Anything beyond that, especially in light of the kiss (he sounds like a teenager, he realizes with embarrassment), is unfamiliar territory. Can they hold hands? Are they in a holding hands kind of relationship? Or will Ben laugh at him and say it was just a one time thing. A drunken experiment. Or worse, _what if Ben says_ _yes_ because he needs a place to stay. Diego starts to feel a little sick himself at the thought and passes Ben the last of his coffee which Ben accepts with grabby little raccoon hands. 

He starts the car and doesn't take his eyes off the road. He's not going to be that kind of guy. And maybe he isn't. Maybe he's overreacting because if push came to shove, Vanya would offer Ben her couch, but he wants this and therefore it must be wrong. There has to be something wrong about it because otherwise how could he deserve it? 

Ben, for once, doesn't fiddle with the radio and a suffocating silence fills the car. Diego can feel Ben looking at him but doesn't dare look back. He just can't. He knows he'll say something regrettably awkward and cliché that reveals that he doesn't know what's going on, that he's lost control of the situation. Talking About It would be needy and vulnerable and just the thought of it creates a physical pain in his chest. 

A foot away from him, Ben rests his left hand on his thigh, palm up, and it would be so easy to reach out and hold it. Diego knows this because he sneaks a quick, traitorous look to his right where Ben's eyes look golden in the sun. His hair is still fluffy from sleep and he's sitting awkwardly upright in his seat, back barely touching it. It's an odd juxtaposition and reminder of the shared discipline of their childhood that makes Diego want to pull the tension from Ben's body slowly, gently. He can hold enough tension for both of them in the constant push-pull of his emotions that will probably give him a heart attack by forty. He can hold them both. He reaches a hand out, the steadiness from years of knife wielding masking his anxiety, and rests it in Ben's. Ben weaves their fingers together before Diego can even squeeze his palm. 

Diego wishes for red lights all the way home. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one is also short. I found out last weekend that McDonald's hashbrowns are no longer two for a dollar; please console me.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nothing gold can stay, babey!

Things are different. And they're not. Ben still works at the bookstore during the day and Diego gives him a ride to work most days after getting home from his vigilante duties. Except he's listening to the police scanner and going out at night less because. Well, because that's when Ben is in the boiler room (not home, not their home, Diego isn't ready for  _ that _ yet.) He feels a pang of guilt that he's letting the people of the city fend for themselves but also he honestly hasn't done this day job this well since… Okay, he's never actually been that good at keeping up with cleaning the gym. And keeping his job is good! Keeping his boss happy is especially good because now there are  _ two _ ex-superheroes living illegally in what is technically not a properly zoned apartment. And also they might be dating? Which isn't illegal but not necessarily something that works in their favor. Or so Diego thinks (not worries!). 

Truth be told, the housing situation is least concerning part of the whole possibly-dating thing. Should Diego know if they're dating? Would it be weird to ask? He feels like he's old enough that he should just know. And it's not like there's anyone he can talk to about his rising panic over whether or not he's dating his adoptive brother who also lives with him and is very sensitive to rejection and who also means the absolute world to him. Partly because Diego doesn't have a lot of friends and partly because  _ none of their siblings can keep a secret to save their lives.  _ Vanya might but she's not a relationship type person. And Diego would rather die than tell mom about his love life, especially since the other party is one of her other kids. 

Diego glares at the back of Ben's head and the way his hair looks stupidly glossy and perfect even in the dusty basement light. His power should have been mindreading. 

"Shouldn't you be at work?" he asks gruffly. 

Ben turns around and looks up from his book, oblivious to Diego's tone. "I didn't get scheduled for today..," he catches sight of Diego's scowl and belatedly registers his earlier irritation, "But I can go somewhere else if I'm bothering you?" Ben stands up and hovers awkwardly. 

Diego hates himself in that moment for the look of uncertainty that flickers across Ben's face before it goes purposely neutral-- a leftover habit from when any emotion was a weakness to be exploited. He did that. He made Ben feel small again. He should stop but the guilt is bubbling up inside him ugly and familiar. The anger feels good, soothing, even though he knows he's mad at Ben for all the wrong reasons. 

"It's just that it's been a few months. I thought maybe you would've made some friends by now instead of spending all your time at my place." 

Diego wants to take it back as soon as he's said it but the words almost have a physical weight as they hang between them. They're pulling everything down with them and into them like a black hole and Diego can only watch helplessly as Ben's face goes even more blank. 

Ben turns and walks up the stairs. It would have been better if he'd said something back. Something cruel. Diego knows how to fight. Fighting would be easier than whatever tangle of emotions and uncertainty this is. Uncertainty is vulnerability and it gnaws at him from the inside out. He should apologize. It's not too late. He opens his mouth and feels his throat close, choking on his apology or admission (his brain still can't decide which). His lungs are empty. He doesn't have the breath to make a sound. He couldn't even scream now if he wanted to. And he wants to the second the door closes behind Ben. 

_ Picture the word in your mind, Diego. _ He means to picture "I'm sorry" but all he sees is "Don't go don't go don't go don't go don't go" stretching and spiraling all the way to the door and back. 

* * *

Ben makes it to the end of the block before the urge to flee leaves him and he realizes he doesn't know where he's going. He really doesn't have anywhere to go, doesn't know the city all that well, and that knowledge humiliates him. Diego was right. He should have friends, places to go, preferences of his own at the very least… But he's always been content to follow. It's easier to ignore the separation he feels from other people and the world at large that way. If he can stand in someone else's tail wind, he can pretend he doesn't see the imaginary pane of glass separating himself from everyone and everything around him. 

Diego can have his outbursts, his intensity of emotion. That level of feeling is something Ben just can't afford. He watches himself and monitors every feeling because if he doesn't, the result could be catastrophic. And he wouldn't have anyone to blame but himself. The Horror kills, that's its nature. But at the end of the day, the blood would be on his hands. People maimed, people  _ dead _ all because he couldn't control his emotions. It's isolating. It's hard being a liability who also happens to be a person. He's shy. He's reserved. Or maybe he's just trapped in a deadly hall of mirrors and terrified that if he closes his eyes for even a second he'll lose control. Constant self-surveillance is his responsibility. So sorry if he can't relate to people who aren't living time bombs- He presses his palms into his eye sockets and takes a deep, shuddering breath. He can't get mad. Even if Diego is being an ass ( _ difficult,  _ he amends), he just can't. Anger isn't allowed. There's an entire dimension deep in his stomach; plenty of room for him to swallow down his anger and hurt. Not hurt,  _ disappointment _ . Euphemisms help. Minimizing his own needs and importance helps. If he can keep shrinking his wants and needs, keep shrinking himself, then maybe he won't take up so much space in people's lives. He won't be such a burden.  _ Inconvenience.  _ The replacement word doesn't make him feel much better but he doesn't deserve to feel better when he actually is a burden. 

The anger dissipates and he suddenly feels cold. He should've grabbed a jacket. Just more proof that impulsiveness will get him nowhere. He'd been impulsive with Diego and now Diego…hated him? Was upset with him? Was frustrated by- He gives up on reframing that thought. The whole thing is too upsetting so it's best to just throw it out completely. Poking at it would be too risky. Besides, it's easy to let himself go numb when the familiar loneliness that hovers around him is starting to roll in like a heavy fog. It settles over him and he lets it, hunching in on himself as if buckling under the weight. 

* * *

"You're back." Diego looks equally relieved and terrible. Clammy. Ashen almost. 

"You were right," Ben replies hollowly, "I don't have anyone else to see or anywhere else to go."

Diego flinches but automatically attempts to start his supportive big brother act. "You can always go see Va-" 

"I can't just drop in on Vanya unannounced because you're sick of having me around!" Ben's snappish tone surprises both of them. 

Diego's mouth opens and closes like a fish. 

The full weight of Ben's exhaustion chooses that moment to hit him and he can't even bring himself to feel bad about his outburst. He just wants to lie down. His stomach hurts. For the first time, he wishes he had his own room and his own bed.

"I'm gonna lie down. I have an early shift tomorrow. Just…try not to be too loud when you get back from playing Umbrella Academy." It's a low blow but that seems to be the theme of the day. Even lying facedown, he can practically hear Diego's teeth grinding. 

"I'm saving lives." Diego's response is unexpectedly quiet. Ben had expected the full force of Diego's anger. 

"Hmm." It's a noncommittal noise but Diego reads it as a dismissal and sits at the desk on the opposite side of the room next to the police scanner, waiting for it to crackle to life. This is not how he expected their evening to go. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PRESIDENTIAL ALERT: THE GIRLS ARE FIGHTINGGGG.  
> Also we've reached the end of what I have prewritten that I can still post so uhhh


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Posting from quarantine. Unbeta'd.

He gets back late. Much later than he's been getting in recently. The light is muddled and gray through his one good eye so it's either right before dawn or the buzzing in his head is from the streetlights outside. He wouldn't consider himself out of shape, just out of practice, not that it makes much of a difference when his entire body feels like one big bruise. He guesses he's lucky to be alive. Probably. He tries to be quiet despite the screaming protest of his muscles, moving at more of a slow limp than his usual cat-like grace. The small part of his brain that isn't on the verge of passing out from exhaustion knows that it doesn't want Ben to wake up and see this. 

But of course Ben does. Ben's a light sleeper and Diego can see his glowing eyes blinking into awareness even through the blood clouding his own vision. He tries to turn away, anything to hide the extent of his injuries, but his body is just too heavy. Too heavy. 

He's on the cold concrete floor and Ben is kneeling over him, cradling his face in a cool palm and turning it to catch the light. Ben inhales sharply just once before gently rubbing away some of the blood with his thumb to get a better view of the cut on Diego's face. Diego hisses. Even that gentle pressure hurts. But he lets Ben touch him, biting back a whine when his head is laid gently down on the floor. There's something under his head that's soft and smells like Ben and Diego drifts between that softness and the throbbing pain in his body until Ben reappears. He's holding…something. It doesn't matter what he's holding because he's back. He's back even though Diego doesn't deserve the quiet shushing noises Ben doesn't seem to realize he's making or the hand brushing his hair away from his face. He's just there and Diego can sense him even with his eyes closed and his ears ringing. 

There's a wet cloth rubbing over his face in light, delicate touches and then there's the cold weight of an ice pack shoving his eye deep into its socket and halfway through his brain. Or at least that's how it feels. He groans and then there are more gentle shushing sounds and a few sorry's. It  _ hurts  _ and Diego still has that horrible leaden feeling in his gut because he never apologized to Ben and now Ben is looking after him without him even asking or having to ask and he feels raw. Exposed. Like his tough guy exterior has been forcibly peeled away to reveal all the messy parts of him that need to be taken care of. He should get up. Ben didn't sign up for this. He sits up, hissing at the pain in his bruised ribs. The change in position sets his head spinning. His world tilts at a queasy angle and then all at once there are too many limbs holding him and lowering him down slowly. 

"Don't. Move." Ben's voice is strained. The tentacles cradling Diego are at odds with Ben's tone; curiously running over his body and under his clothes, cold and smooth except for the gentle exploration of countless little suckers. They could constrict and crush him to death easily but aren't giving off any malicious intent right now. They even feel kind of  _ good _ as they warm to the same temperature as Diego's skin. Yeah, he's definitely been hit in the head too many times. 

But Ben is shaking, eyes clamped shut, and the tentacles reluctantly begin to retract under his shirt, leaving slimy caresses in their wake. Reaching one hand out feels like a herculean effort but Ben catches his leaden hand in both of his. Diego lets his eyelids fall shut at the contact, lets his body be manipulated carefully, various body parts stinging and damp but then somehow dry. Bandaged. He's still drifting when Ben's voice breaks through the fog. 

"I want to try to move you to the bed but I need your help, okay?" Ben soothingly runs a hand down his chest while waiting for an answer. 

Diego almost forgets the question but manages the barest of nods. Sitting up is so much more painful after lying down and burning through his adrenaline. Even with Ben’s help, his ribs are killing him and he finds himself breathing heavily with the exertion of becoming upright. Ben's hand is warm on the small of his back, the other gripping his shoulder to steady him. He smells like sleep and ozone and Diego's shampoo. Diego goes in for a kiss on instinct, proximity and pain eroding his control, but tips over and ends up leaning against Ben's chest for balance with his head pillowed on Ben's shoulder. It smells even more like Ben and Diego inhales deeply. There was...something. Something he had to tell Ben. Something he probably should have told Ben before indulging in the comfort of his soft touches

"I'm sorry. For...for yesterday. I d-didnt mean it." Diego's mind is a blur of words and he makes a frustrated noise at how the words feel like sandpaper in his throat, "This is...your home. Too." If he had any spare blood left, he'd be blushing but as it is, he just sags more heavily into Ben's arms. 

Ben wants to say 'I know.' He'd be lying to himself if he said he didn't, for all his self pity. He's known on some deeper level all along. Some dormant homing instinct stirring to life every time he entered the boiler room. Even animals can find their way home. But the apology before him is a delicate, awkward love letter written on tissue paper and he can't be careless with it. He doesn't want to be careless with it, with Diego, ever. 

He brushes a gentle kiss to Diego's unbruised cheek. Diego's lips are right there, so close and swollen and split down the middle like a peach. Ripe for the taking. But this isn't a time for taking. Or even reciprocating. Ben methodically presses chaste kisses across Diego's hairline, down the slope of his nose, anywhere that won't hurt. He's overcome with the need to give kisses that end with a period instead of a question mark for once. This isn't the time for kisses that ask  _ Do you like me do you like me are you mine?  _ These kisses are an apology and an affirmation skimmed along scarred skin. 

“We should get you in bed,” Ben murmurs against his cheekbone. Diego huffs in agreement but makes no effort to move from his current comfortable position until Ben tries to tug him to his feet. Diego is pretty sure he is only able to stand by chasing Ben’s warmth, just wanting to burrow back into him as soon as possible. Ben pulls back the covers and Diego sinks gratefully into the mattress, already half-asleep and fuzzy. The last thing he feels before slipping away is Ben’s breath on the back of his neck as he settles his body around Diego’s, a solid tether in the dark and the quiet.


	6. Outtake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's withdrawn consent time. This chapter is a higher rating than the previous ones. Probably an E.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I've been gone so long but *gestures at the state of the world.* This was actually one of the first scenes I wrote for this fic but couldn't figure out where to fit it in but I decided to put it up here anyway. Thank you to everyone who has commented so far. I'm always embarrassed to put something so purple prose online so I'm glad there are other people who enjoy that sort of thing. Also Ben being a virgin is canon now so that's wild.

The stretch is so good, soothing something deep inside him and eliciting a whine that he forgets to bite back. His mouth falls open and he's panting as he pushes a second finger in a little too soon. But he can't stop. He needs to feel full, needs to feel the friction against his rim as he pumps his fingers in and out of himself greedily. He looks down for the lube and gets distracted by Ben's rapt face, pupils blown so wide his eyes look dark and liquid, almost unfamiliar in the flickering yellow light of the basement. He's hard but frozen as if he isn't sure he's allowed to touch, just squeezing himself hesitantly through his boxers as he drinks Diego in. There's a wet spot on the fabric that Diego wants to bend down and lick and, oh right, he was getting more lube. The act of balancing himself up on his knees and opening the lube one-handed with the other still twisted behind him makes him thankful for all of his core workouts. Ben makes a pained noise while watching his abs flex that seems to echo that sentiment. Diego's third finger circles his ass, just teasing the rim and building the anticipation, when something decidedly /not/ his finger decides to join the party and snake its way deep inside him, deeper than his fingers could ever reach. Diego does not want to look down because he's pretty sure what he'll find and instead opts to look at Ben who is holding both hands to his stomach like he's been shot in the gut. Despite his grip, slender tentacles wiggle between and around his fingers, reaching out for Diego.   
"I'm so sorry," he says hoarsely, wishing The Horror would just rip him in half and end his humiliation already.   
Diego pokes one of the tentacles experimentally. It's about the texture of a firm gummy candy.   
"D-does this always happen when you…you...you know?" Diego's face burns when he hears his stutter but he thinks he's holding it together pretty well given that there is a tentacle in his ass, more seemingly eager to join it, and Ben looks like he's on the verge of tears.   
"Sometimes? When I'm alone. This is their first time with another person. Our first time with another person, I guess." Ben's expression turns even more miserable and a couple tentacles retract back into him, almost apologetically.   
This is fine. Diego can handle this. The revelation of being Ben's first should not be freaking him out more than the surprise tentacles. He can do this.   
"Hey," Diego calls gently, "Hey, look at me."  
Ben keeps looking down and shakes his head, eyes squeezed shut like he can stop this from being real.   
"Does it hurt?"   
That surprises Ben enough for him to look up and scan Diego's face for disappointment.   
"A little. Not so much this time since these are small."   
"But do you want them to be out right now?" Diego carefully keeps his voice level, more worried about upsetting Ben further than getting ripped apart ass-first by The Horror.   
Ben shakes his head again. Opens his mouth. Closes it.   
"What?"   
"I'm sorry." Ben finally meets his eyes with a plaintive expression that says 'please fix this.' And that's more familiar territory for Diego. He's a good big brother. He'll make it better.   
He removes his fingers with an awkward squelch (and does not think about the slide of the tentacle against them) and lies down next to Ben as well as he can, curls his body around him protectively. The tentacles shift to make room for him and a couple more slither back into Ben's abdomen, bored.   
"It's okay, just relax. Look, they're almost all gone now." He runs a hand soothingly over Ben's chest, unsure how far down he can touch without causing discomfort. They lay like that, Ben's face in Diego's shoulder, his body tensing every time a tentacle retracts back inside him, while Diego kisses the top of his head and shushes him instinctively. Of course, the one inside Diego is the last to leave, pulling out of him with a wet noise and lazily making its way back home through Ben's stomach. It's awkward but they'll both live. No one got dismembered, Diego reminds himself when he realizes that he's still naked. Very naked and very pressed up against Ben who is shaking and somehow managing to have an even worse time. Diego gets up to find his boxers, wincing at the feeling of lube still inside him, and Ben's hand shoots out to grab him more tightly than any tentacle.   
"Are you leaving?" Ben's voice is carefully distant and aimed somewhere at the wall behind them.   
"No, sweetheart, no." The endearment slips out, probably the result of too much time with Grace, and there's no taking it back. If he were braver, he wouldn't want to take it back. But he's always been second best. He settles for sitting on the edge of the bed partially clothed and running a hand up and down Ben's spine until the muscles relax slightly under his hands.   
"Where would I even go?" Diego means for it to be light, teasing even, but it opens something endlessly deep inside of him, a dark secret longing that he thought he had buried. Where would he go? He already can't imagine being somewhere that Ben isn't.   
"You could always crash with Vanya." Ben says even as he rolls over to pin Diego with big brown eyes that say 'please don't go.'  
Diego scrubs a hand over his beard. "We'd be at each others' throats within a week."  
"Only because you're too much alike," Ben says like it's the most obvious thing in the world. It should be annoying but there's no smugness to it. Just a simple, clean observation that makes Diego feel more naked than he was a few minutes ago. He'd become so accustomed to observing from the shadows that he'd forgotten that it goes both ways, forgotten what it felt like to be known. It feels like the kind of love from before he knew what love was. When the concept of being loved was free from outside influence and left to curl warmly under his lungs as natural as breathing. It's the first full breath after being trapped in the tank for hours and it's the last look at the endless rosy sky before he descends into the basement every morning. It's the mansion in the rearview mirror with Ben in the passenger seat jiggling his leg and driving Diego crazy because he can do that now, he can do anything and-  
It's his hands cupping Ben's face without letting it disappear between them, tilting it up for a kiss, and trying to breathe 'you're perfect, you're perfect' down into him deeper than words can reach. Diego can hit any target. He's never wanted to reach one more desperately than this.   
He pulls away and Ben’s eyes are still closed like he can’t trust himself to open them just yet; they’ll give too much away. 

It's the feeling of letting go of a balloon and watching it float away until it disappears into the pure blue sky. He feels as if he's expanding in every direction at once.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to anielle for the ship name "Knife-Wielding Tentacle" and for listening to me scream about both this fic and this ship incessantly. There are more scenes set in this 'verse that will push the rating up later. I just haven't decided whether I want them to connect to this first scene or post them as vignettes. I'm sorry the formatting is wonky a usual; I still have no idea how this should look. Thanks for reading! I'm ativanpire on tumblr as well.


End file.
